Selling the Drama (36 page)

"Well, here's hoping Bree doesn't have the
opposite effect for you," she said. "Thanks again, Eloise. You have
no idea how much having you take this on helps me right now. It's
an incredible relief."

"All good boss. Take care."

Charlotte smiled at that. The title of boss
was a joke they had running between them. Charlotte was the most
un-boss-like boss you could ever come across. "I will. Bye now."
She hung up and slumped against the wall, exhaustion taking her
over. She stood there for about thirty seconds until the panic set
in and she had to return back to the side of Toby's bed, where she
could examine him carefully, take note of the fact that he was
still very much alive, and that she had not missed anything at all
by stepping out into the hall for ten minutes.

Toby developed a fever that accelerated at a
rapid pace, the first indication he was gripped with an infection.
This was not unexpected, given the extent of his injuries and the
surgery he had undergone, the likelihood of it happening even
greater owing to the removal of his spleen. His dosage of
antibiotics was increased and his pain medication was administered
more frequently. Charlotte sat beside the bed and watched as he
deteriorated right before her eyes. His temperature continued to
rise and his vitals continued to plummet.

Charlotte held onto his hand continuously,
as though by doing so, she could ensure his survival. If she hung
on, then he would have no choice but to hang on also. He was
agitated the majority of the time now, not even the pain medication
being able to ease him. Nurses came and went, all with a calm
demeanour that unsettled Charlotte more than it assured her. She
could not help but wonder if their lack of concern was more to do
with professionalism rather than the seriousness of his condition,
or lack thereof. The doctor explained Toby had an infection at the
site of his splenectomy and that the antibiotics should activate to
temper this within the next twenty four hours. He too, seemed
ridiculously calm.

Ellie crept into the room one night, a bit
after midnight. She pulled up a chair beside Charlotte and hugged
her wordlessly, holding on for several long moments before drawing
back and placing a bag onto Charlotte's lap.

"What's this?" Charlotte asked wearily, so
incredibly exhausted.

"You've probably already got one but I
didn't want to look through your stuff so I just went and bought
another one. I've sterilised it so it's all ready to use." Ellie
regarded Charlotte carefully while she peered into the paper
bag.

Charlotte turned to Ellie after she had
taken a look and sagged against her friend. Ellie put her arm back
around Charlotte, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze.

"She didn't like the formula and I felt bad
persisting so I thought you could give this a try. She might go
back to the breast when you get home if she's still drinking your
milk."

Charlotte sniffled, tears dripping down her
cheeks. "You are the best friend ever. Thank you so much. With so
much going on, I didn't even think of this as an option."

Ellie kissed Charlotte on the top of her
head. "I'm only such a great best friend because I have the
greatest best friend as an example to draw from. I'll take some
back with me now but you can keep going and just put it in the
fridge here for me to collect each time I pop in."

"How are the kids?" Charlotte asked, looking
at Ellie tearfully.

"Ashley is worried in that serious quiet way
that he has. Bree is beginning to push it a bit. Courtney is very
clingy, but Jake's all over that one so she's settled down a lot
today. And Danielle is fine. I have her with me mostly." Ellie
smiled at that. "She is such a beautiful baby."

Charlotte nodded, reaching out to take
Ellie's hand in her own. She pulled it up to her lips, kissing it
gently. "Thank you." She was unsurprised Ellie had taken command of
Danielle's care.

"You don't have to worry. We're all fine.
Jenna and Chad are driving up in one trip tomorrow. When they get
here we'll be more than one adult to each child." Ellie laughed
lightly then. "I don't know how you do it. Split yourself between
four like that."

"I have Mum there all the time and Toby at
night and on weekends. It's not just me," Charlotte replied,
unwilling to take all the credit. She honestly had no idea how she
would manage without her mother.

"But you're their mum," Ellie contradicted.
"They all want a piece of you."

"They all want a piece of everyone,"
Charlotte countered. She shrugged then. "I feel awful because I
can't go home to be with them, but I wouldn't be able to just duck
back for a half an hour. I'd be there for ages and I just can't
leave him, Ellie. I can't. It's a struggle to even leave to grab
something to eat or to use the bathroom. I panic and have to race
back here. I just need to be with him." She wiped her eyes then,
accepting a tissue from Ellie gratefully.

"Of course you want to be with him. You need
to be here; we all understand that. The kids are fine. Truly. They
are perfect. It's all okay," Ellie soothed, her hand rubbing
Charlotte's back gently.

Charlotte nodded, so grateful to Ellie for
saying the words she needed to hear right now. She craved that
absolution; the permission to focus solely on Toby and Toby alone.
"Thanks. I should use this now so I don't hold you up for too long.
It's well past midnight. How did you even get in?"

"I told the nurse at the desk the truth of
why I was here. Turns out she's got a baby herself so she was
sympathetic enough to break the rules for me."

Charlotte busied herself with the breast
pump while Ellie talked. The relief was instant, yet also
surprising. She had not been paying much attention to her own body,
and it was only now that she realised how uncomfortable she had
become.

"How is he?" Ellie's question pierced the
stillness.

"He has an infection at the moment. Nobody
seems overly concerned about it except for me. I'm not sure if
that's because I'm the only one who cares or if I'm just jumping to
worst case scenarios. He seems a bit less agitated this last hour,
so maybe he really is fine. I've just heard so many stories about
people dying after surgery because of infections. I'm so on the
edge at the moment. I just can't relax at all." Charlotte stared at
Toby as she spoke to Ellie, taking note of his deepening frown. He
must be beginning to feel the pain again. She reached out and
pressed the button once more.

"Of course you can't relax." Ellie took the
proffered bottle of milk from Charlotte and slipped it into the
bottle carrier she had brought with her. "Are you doing the other
one now?"

Charlotte nodded. "Yes, as long as you don't
mind waiting."

"It's fine." She waved at Charlotte to
continue. "Does he know about his leg?"

"Sort of. I told him, but he was a bit out
of it so I don't know if he'll remember. He tried to look at it but
it was too much for him too soon, trying to sit up, and he passed
out. He's barely been conscious since." She had been utterly
terrified by the sight of him passing out like that, convinced that
he was dying right before her eyes. That was the way Jake had found
her, finally making his way back up from the car park; weeping and
hysterical, nurses sweeping her out of the way so they could take
charge and assess the situation.

Ellie was silent for a few moments. "What do
you suppose he will think about it?"

Charlotte let out a deep sigh. "Toby has
such high standards for everything, particularly himself." She
paused, considering her next words. "He's going to have to accept
that so much of what he's about to endure is completely out of his
control, and we both know how much he values controlling his own
sphere. He's improved so much over the years with being able to let
go and concede that some things are out of the realm of his
influence. But this is his body and I can't see him just rolling
over and accepting the loss of his leg without a fight."

Charlotte was in fact deeply worried about
how Toby was going to adjust, but she was unwilling to say more to
Ellie about it than what she had just done. She knew that Ellie
still did not fully trust Toby, even after all these years. She
seemed to be always on guard around him, as if she needed to watch
him closely lest he fall back into old habits. They got along well
on the surface, but the undercurrent persisted nonetheless, with
the two of them clearly tolerating each other for the sake of peace
rather than aiming for friendship.

She passed Ellie the second bottle of milk.
"I'll clean this up here." She gestured to the breast pump. "The
nurses may even be able to get a hold of a steriliser for me to use
while I'm here."

Ellie nodded as she got to her feet. "Sure.
I should get back before they kick me out."

"Okay. Thanks again for this."

Ellie leaned down to kiss Charlotte on the
cheek. "Love you. Call if you need me to bring anything in."

"Will do."

They bid each other farewell and Ellie left,
the silence in her wake glaring. Charlotte put the breast pump back
into the paper bag. She would need to clean it soon or the dregs
coating it would spoil, but she could not really be bothered right
at the moment.

"Charlotte."

She turned toward the bed, startled by
Toby's voice, weak and gravelly, yet still loud in the dark quiet
of the night. "Hey there." Getting up to cross over to the bed, she
leaned over him, touching his cheek gently, noting how hot he still
felt.

"I am so thirsty," he rasped.

"I'll get you some water." She poured a
small amount into a cup and then gently tipped it against his lips
so he could drink it while still lying down. He finished the lot
but refused any more.

"That's enough. You were asleep last time I
woke up."

"Was I?" She did not feel as though she had
slept at all over the last few days.

He nodded. "I feel like shit."

"Are you in pain?" Probably a stupid
question in hindsight, but anyway, it had seemed an obvious one to
go with.

"Everywhere."

"You're on some pretty strong painkillers,"
she said. "Your IV has a drug called Hydromorphone in it. The
nurses told me it's hard core. They'll have to wean you off it so
you don't become a drug addict." A smile teased her lips and he
smirked back at her. She knew those were the sort of details he
would want to know. Focusing on the specifics was just his way,
evermore when he was dealing with something tough. She reached down
to run her fingers through his hair, looking at him tenderly. "I am
so glad you're awake enough to be talking to me."

He drew in a deep breath and winced.

"More pain?"

Nodding, he hissed through his teeth.
Charlotte pressed the IV button again, releasing another dose of
the pain reliever. "That should help in a few minutes. Sorry. I
haven't pressed it for a while. Ellie was here and I got
distracted."

"I can feel my foot," he gasped out.

Charlotte stared at him. "Your right one?"
That foot wasn't even injured! Was there something else wrong with
him now? Maybe he had a blood clot. Charlotte could feel the panic
begin to choke her once again.

Shaking his head, he winced once more, an
agonised groan escaping him. "The left. It's like a knife slicing
up into the arch of my foot, then being drawn out only to get
shoved back in again." His face contorted with pain. "Fuck." He lay
breathless and sweating.

Charlotte looked from his face down to the
end of the bed, the empty space where his left foot should be
lying, taunting them. Blinking rapidly, she returned her gaze to
his pain filled face, reaching out to hit the button on the wall
for assistance. It was time his doctor had that chat to him. This
was well beyond her capabilities and she was not entirely sure she
was up to dealing with the fall out.

Phantom pain would become a part of Toby's
life from here on in. It was not something that would disappear
once the rest of him had healed. The doctor gave him no illusions
about anything other than the expectation that it would continue
indefinitely. No matter how many times Toby asked him and no matter
how many different ways he posed the question, the answer was still
the same. Charlotte had this sinking feeling that Toby's fixation
on it was an indication that it was perhaps more painful than any
of his other injuries. The more time the doctor spent with him, the
more lucid Toby became. This was not necessarily a positive thing
for the doctor. Toby was livid that his leg was gone. That he had
been given no say in its removal. He accused the doctor of
railroading Charlotte into signing the consent forms without full
disclosure to her on what she was signing. He knew all the right
things to say, all the correct terms to use; of course, the doctor
had heard it all before, so it was essentially a pointless rant.
Charlotte had the impression though that the doctor was absorbing
this rage from Toby as a means of deflecting it from her. He seemed
completely unfazed; Charlotte was certain she would not have felt
the same way in the face of such an attack.

The extent of Toby's injuries meant there
would be a delay in fitting him for a prosthesis. He needed to heal
from his splenectomy for a start, and he would not be able to
manage crutches or a walker with his injured shoulder and broken
arm for a couple of weeks yet.

"When can I go home?"

The doctor stared at Toby for a few long
moments before answering him. "You're a long way from that yet. So
long, I can't even give you an estimate. You're still critical and
you have an infection at the sight of your splenectomy at present,"
he explained patiently.

"Caused no doubt by the stellar hygiene
practices employed at this hospital," Toby bit out, glaring at the
doctor with vindication.